


Thunder and Lightning

by lea_hazel



Series: Decline and Fall [24]
Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Backstory, Birthday Presents, F/F, Family Drama, Female Friendship, Femslash, Flirting, Infidelity, Innuendo, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: As Verity gets to know Brielle better, she also learns more about Lost Lake, and the Wendell family's fortunes.
Relationships: Arland Princess (Seven Kingdoms)/Original Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Decline and Fall [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/946446
Kudos: 4





	1. A Quiet Place

"I'm afraid I shall not be available to attend your birthday celebration," said Brielle regretfully.

She'd been having such a good day, too.

By the last week of their stay at Merrotayne, tempers were frayed all around. Three of the four royals were not known for their patience even under the best of circumstances. The Ayalah estate house, though it seemed large and comfortably modern when she had first seen it, proved not quite large enough to accommodate their party for a full month. It would have been quite difficult enough to contain the high spirits of the five Kallis brats, but was made worse by their hosting habits, which meant company every evening, and overnight guests more often than not.

Many of the most frequent attendees were young gentlemen, making their case to the General and Lady Kallis for Cecily's hand. Although her preference for the insufferable Lord Benedict had been obvious from the start, Cecily was more than happy to put herself at the center of attention, and receive as many fawning compliments and unnecessary gifts as the young men saw fit to bestow. Her vain prancing was almost as loud and conspicuous as her sister, Mhairi's envy, and Benedict's simmering resentment. All the while her mother and uncle looked on tolerantly in benign neglect.

Queen Violetta had taken to shutting herself in her bower after supper, claiming one of her legendary headaches. The King and Jarrod were absent as often as not, which was probably for the best. Verity had seen the way her husband stole glances at Cecily Kallis, every now and then. He undoubtedly thought he was being subtle, but she knew that if they stayed in such close quarters for much longer, his meager self-restraint would give out. It was inevitable. And Cecily would probably find the attention of the Crown Prince too flattering to turn down.

No, the separation was better for all. Even if the humiliation might cause a rift between Jarrod and Benedict, which Verity could only consider a blessing, it wasn't worth the cost. Preying on his niece so openly would be a grave insult to General Darius. Jarrod couldn't afford to lose his benevolence. And heaven knew that Cecily had more than enough suitors to keep her occupied. She hardly seemed to notice his absence, no matter how much she had preened when he first turned his gaze on her.

But Jarrod's absence could not relieve all of the tension in the Ayalah estate. It was still too crowded, too busy, and too loud. The General himself felt the same way, it transpired, because on the last week of the royal sojourn, he closed the house to visitors altogether. Mhairi cried and Duncan sulked and Cecily actually stamped her foot at him in anger. It made no difference at all. Except instead of bringing about the coveted peace and quiet, the silence in the house was moody and somehow even more oppressive than the interminable noise of before.

Verity packed her books, her pens, and her bonnet, and resolved to walk to Wendell Abbey, where she could spend her morning peacefully.

It was a beautiful summer morning, sunny but not oppressively hot. Birds sang in the branches, bees buzzed in the flowers, and grasses swayed in the gentle wind. She spent a peaceful hour among the ruins of the abbey cloisters, completely alone, before spying a colorful dot in the distance. It wasn't that she disliked company; she was just holding out for company of the right sort.

Setting her books and her letters carefully aside, Verity shook out her skirts and stood up, waving an arm at the distant figure. The figure stopped, and waved back. She climbed to sit on one of the toppled columns, and watched her hasten her approach.

"How did you know you could find me here today, Princess?" asked Brielle breathlessly, when she plopped down to sit next to her.

"I didn't," said Verity frankly. "Well, I guessed that you might be here, but I would have been content to sit alone with my thoughts."

"Content?" asked Brielle, eyes sparking.

"No company is better than bad company," said Verity, grinning, "but not nearly as preferable as good company."

Brielle laughed.

"Have you received word that you're to be repelled from Merrotayne's doors, along with all other guests?" asked Verity.

"Word made its way to me, just this morning," she replied. "I found tear-stained notes from both Kallis sisters."

"The General's decision," explained Verity. "His nieces and nephews are none too pleased with him. I suppose he will lift the moratorium once the royal family has been relocated."

"Uncle will be glad to welcome you to Wendell Abbey," said Brielle.

"Will he really?" asked Verity lightly. "Precedent demonstrated that we are not an easy party of guests to accommodate. Though I suppose that's not terribly surprising."

"I find you a remarkably convenient guest, Princess," said Brielle. "Would you like to climb the hill to the old bell tower? There used to be a nest of barn owls there, and I've been meaning to see if they've returned."

Verity smiled brightly. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

Brielle jumped off the column and held out her hand. "Better go now," she said, tipping her head up to glance at the sky. "I have a feeling that we might be hearing thunder, if we wait too long."

"You expect a summer storm?" asked Verity.

"Don't worry, Princess," said Brielle with a smile. "If it storms, my uncle is sure to invite you to tea. In fact, when you spotted me crossing the green, I was on my way to deliver the invitation."

"Well," said Verity, "that sounds like a wonderful afternoon plan." 

Verity decided to cede control and let Brielle, who was so familiar with the surrounding neighborhood, lead the way. First up to the ruins of the abbey's bell tower, which had collapsed a hundred years before either of them were born, and then back to the main house, where the family was gathered for tea and sandwiches. By that time they'd both managed to work up quite an appetite, after climbing up the steep hill and then circling around to reach the abbey from the other side.

Brielle had not promised idly, and Duke Wendell was indeed happy to welcome the Princess for the afternoon. The old duke was less guarded in the company of his own family, and Verity discovered that what she'd called his melancholy charm was a veneer covering an odd, fatalistic sense of humor. Lady Cendrile was pleased to see her, too, and the children were less guarded in her presence. Best of all, she could see Brielle in her element, for once, away from Gisette's noxious influence and the wearying antics of the Kallis sisters. More and more she felt that, left to their own devices, the two of them could become very good friends indeed.

As on her other visits, Brielle offered to lead her way back to Merrotayne, so she wouldn't have to walk alone. Not that she expected to get lost much, any more. Still, it was nicer to walk in company, whether in conversation or in companionable silence.

"Bree," said Lady Cendrile, picking up her sleepy and protesting daughter, "would you be so kind as to escort Princess Verity back to her hosts up the hill? It's the children's nap time and you know they won't lie still unless I tuck them in."

"Yes, be a dear and see our charming princess home, won't you?" the duke chimed in.

"I'd welcome the company for a walk," said Verity.

"Your Highness," said the duke gravely, "it was my honor to host you and offer you the very finest sandwiches in Lost Lake."

"They were as fine as reputed, and I thank you," replied Verity, just as gravely.

The duke cracked a smile. "I suppose we'll be seeing a deal more of each other, next week. I, for one, am glad. The house will be lively, with all this company."

"I look forward to it, Your Grace," said Verity.

"And I look forward to hosting you, Princess," he replied. "Perhaps you'll indulge an old man in a game of Onvu or two. Now shoo!"

He made little shooing motions with his hands at her, and Verity threw back her head and laughed. Brielle was grinning and even Cendrile managed to manifest a small smile. She didn't know how he felt about the rest of the royal family, but Verity felt that Duke Wendell's welcome to her, in particular, was as honest as could be, and it made her glad. After that, Cendrile took her children away under much protestation, and the duke retired to his library. 


	2. Bad News Travels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verity and Brielle discuss friendship, the future, and birthday gifts.

Verity followed Brielle along the path that wound from the abbey's main house up to the garden gates of Merrotayne, overlooking the lake on one side. About halfway there, Brielle suddenly stopped and leaned back against one of the trees beside the path, looking down on the afternoon sunlight gleaming on the lake's surface.

Verity hesitated and came to a stop beside her, gathering her skirts to sit on a large, relatively flat rock.

She waited.

"The King planned your stay at Lost Lake for the whole summer, didn't he?" asked Brielle.

Verity nodded. "Three months," she added, when she realized that Brielle couldn't see the gesture, as she was looking out onto the water.

"So you'll be staying with my uncle a whole month," said Brielle.

"I'm rather looking forward to it," confided Verity. "Mhairi and Cecily are wearing on my nerves."

Brielle laughed. "The Kallis siblings and their social circle make a spirited company, but they can wear thin after a time. A full month of day and night Kallis drama is difficult even for the heartiest soul to bear."

"And I am certainly not that," said Verity. "I like the quiet. That's why I come down to the abbey, where it's peaceful."

"How peaceful will it be when your husband is there with you?" asked Brielle, rather pointedly.

Verity made a face. "You make a good point. Still, as long as there's a quiet corner for me to retreat to, I'll be all right. He doesn't often seek me out. I believe he finds me rather dull."

"More fool he," said Brielle.

She felt her face grow warm. "Anyway, I'll be glad to gain some distance from General Darius and his meddling, too. And I formed the impression that His Grace has grown fond of me."

"He has," said Brielle with a smile. "He told me that you're cleverer by half than you seem."

"How often I have heard that refrain," said Verity with a sigh.

Brielle laughed again, and grew sober. "You should know that Wendell Abbey is much smaller than the big house on the hill," she said. "It was never meant to house a large household. Uncle's circumstance was greatly reduced when he took up residence in the abbey."

"Yes, of course," said Verity with a puzzled frown. "I understand."

Brielle shook her head. "We haven't got enough guest bedrooms for the whole royal party," she said. "As it is, Cendrile has been staying in the nursery with the children, at least while her husband is away on business."

Verity hesitated. "The King and Queen will share a room, surely," she said. "We're not such a large party. Only five people."

"True," said Brielle, "but the abbey was never meant for hosting guests. When my grandmother lived here, it was the guesthouse itself."

"I'm sure we'll manage, somehow," said Verity. "The King always goes on about how he abhors excess and luxury, and even Gisette is less spoiled than she appears to be."

"What about you, Princess?" asked Brielle, looking at her sidelong.

"Oh, no," said Verity earnestly. "I'm as spoiled as can be, surely. My birthday is quite soon, you know, and I fully anticipate being in the center of attention. Packages have already started arriving for me from overseas. I don't even know how they managed to find us, so far from the capital."

She smiled to show that she didn't take herself too seriously, and, much to her relief, Brielle rewarded her with a ringing laugh.

"Do you have so many friends abroad?" she asked.

"I made many friends during the summit," said Verity. "My brother and sister send gifts, too, of course. I even got a package from my grandmother, this year."

Brielle tipped her head curiously to one side and asked, "And what does an Arlish grandmama sent her granddaughter for her birthday?"

"I don't know," answered Verity. "I'm saving all the packages, to open on the morning of my birthday."

"You have more self-restraint than me," said Brielle with a short laugh.

"I can make a credible guess at the contents of most of them," said Verity. "My friends are very reliable. Grandmother Stella probably sent books, maybe even that new Onvu strategy book she'd been talking about. My brother is a dreadful gift-giver, but he'll have attached a nice, thick letter full of juicy gossip about everyone we know. My sister will send one of those rare cosmetics that can only be had outside of Corval for an arm and a leg. Last year she send me cinnamon perfume."

Brielle whistled. "Expensive."

"Gold is easier for her to come by than other kinds of currency," said Verity.

Brielle let that cryptic statement pass by with a shrug. "What about your diplomatic friends?"

"Books and candy, mostly," said Verity. "They know my tastes, and they know what ships well and what doesn't. Avalie will send one of her rare Jiyelian tea mixtures, if I'm lucky. Gisette may gift me fabric, like she did last year, or jewelry, since my wardrobe is no longer the fashion disaster that it was."

"I can't imagine you being anything other than impeccably dressed," said Brielle.

"You're too kind," replied Verity dryly, to hide her flustered state. "You see me now after many months of work. On my eighteenth, I had only been in Revaire for some two months, and my wardrobe had not yet caught up to local fashions. I had a lot of improving to do, according to the Queen, the King, Princess Gisette, and all her many social acquaintances."

"Court is not often kind to foreign ladies," remarked Brielle with a frown of concern.

"Arland princesses are made of sterner stuff," she replied. "I was raised to expect judgment and disapproval. I corrected myself, and was rewarded accordingly."

"Wouldn't you rather be accepted for your genuine self?" asked Brielle.

"My friends take me as I am," said Verity simply. "They know what my favorite chocolates are, after all."

"Is that all it takes?" said Brielle, obviously amused.

"I am easy to please, Lady Brielle," said Verity, "which you should well note. As you've spent all this time pressing me for details about my birthday gifts, I imagine you were gathering intelligence as to what your present should be. You should know that no gift you choose could disappoint me. I'm glad just to call you a friend."

A cloud passed over Brielle's pretty face.

"What is it?"

"My mother has asked for me, back home," said Brielle. "And... Wendell Abbey doesn't really have room to host me, on top of the royal party. I would have sought my place across the lake, and I'm certain Lady Elyssen would gladly host me for a week or two, but my mother needs me."

"You're returning to--" Verity scrabbled in her mind, and realized that she didn't know the name of the place that Brielle came from.

"Elderyn," said Brielle, "and yes. I love visiting my uncle and the lake, but when my mother needs me, I must return. I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow, first thing in the morning."

Verity frowned. "Of course," she said. "Of course you must leave before His Grace welcomes us to the abbey."

"I won't be there to welcome you with him, Princess," said Brielle, "and... I'm afraid I shall not be available to attend your birthday celebration."

Verity didn't know quite what to say. "I shall be returning to Starfall City at the end of the month," she said. "I didn't see you at court last winter, but perhaps this season you might attend?"

Brielle's eyes flashed bright. "I had my reasons for abstaining, but if you wish to see me, I can hope to make an appearance at court."

"That would be... nice," said Verity. "I have some dear friends I might introduce you to."

"Any introduction you offer must be someone well worth knowing," replied Brielle.

"I have a small social circle, compared to my _dear sister_ , but every one of my acquaintances was chosen with care," said Verity.

Brielle glanced up at the sky and said, "We'd best make haste back to the big house. Clouds are gathering."

She pushed herself away from her leaning spot and forged ahead on the path, leaving Verity to jump to her feet and catch up. A quick check confirmed Brielle's worries that the sky was indeed darkening, not with the hour but with low, heavy clouds. Looking over the lake, she could just glimpse one of the boys' sailboats turning in the direction of home. If they were lucky, they wouldn't get drenched in the rain, but Verity and Brielle had little else to worry about. The intrepid sailors had much more to fear from being caught out on the lake, when the storm descended.

"I hope they know what they're doing," muttered Verity under her breath.

"If you mean the Kallis brothers," replied Brielle, "I promise you that any son of a noble house that summers on Lost Lake is well able to handle sailing on a stormy lake, if the occasion calls for it. Malcolm and Duncan will be fine, and so will your husband, if he's out there with them."

" _Every_ noble son?" asked Verity. "What about the noble daughters?"

She was just able to glimpse Brielle's grin.

"I had been meaning to ask you whether you'd join me on an excursion over the lake, Princess," she said, "but alas, we've run out of summer."

"But this is not the last summer of our lives," Verity pointed out. "At least, I hope it's not."

Brielle laughed, but quickly grew sober. "We really ought to hurry, Verity."

The use of her given name sobered her, as well, and they walked faster and talked less.


	3. Tea and Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verity manages her expectations. It's what she's best at.

Brielle didn't even slow down when they passed by the big acacia tree that was one of their usual stops along the path. She forged ahead determinedly, and delivered them both to Merrotayne's doorstep just as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Fat drops of rain began splattering on the flagstones, just past the eaves of the parlor door. Verity watched them for a long moment, before shaking herself and stepping inside, drawing Brielle in after her by the hand.

"Come sit with me for a while," she suggested. "There's no need for you to go back out in the rain."

"Indeed not," said the Queen, who was enthroned on one of the parlor's overstuffed armchairs, her pale day gown seamlessly camouflaging with the chair's upholstery.

Verity curtsied before she could stop to think about it. "Your Majesty," she said, "Lady Brielle was so kind as to escort me back from Wendell Abbey, when it looked to rain. I had thought to offer that she should stay and wait out the storm. It doesn't seem seemly for a lady to traipse about in the pouring rain."

Queen Violetta examined them both from head to toe, in one lightning-fast sweep of her eyes. "Please sit, Lady Brielle," she invited, gesturing at the chair next to hers with a ringed hand.

"Your Majesty is hospitable," said Brielle, stepping towards the empty seat. "Thank you."

"Verity," said the Queen, "send a maid for hot tea, and then go and call in the other young ladies. As it's no weather for taking in the country air, we'll sit right here and have ourselves a good old-fashioned gossip."

Verity hoped that her face concealed her own horror as ably as Brielle managed to tuck hers away. What Violetta called a _good-old gossip_ could mean anything, but was terribly likely to be a trial to her nerves, especially with the other young ladies present. At least she would have Brielle there to help her weather the storm. She curtsied again and ambled away to fulfill the Queen's wishes, however much she might prefer not to.

They were half an hour into the Queen's coveted tea and gossip when the noise outside the parlor door alerted them to the return of the young men. Mhairi anxiously requested Her Majesty's permission to check on the well-being of her brothers, who had not quite managed to escape the storm. She returned shortly to report that they were whole but muddy, and in ill-spirits. The last, Verity assumed, applied mostly to Jarrod. She hoped vainly that she would be spared dealing with his surliness that evening before dinner, but the rain kept on and on.

"I thought these summer storms were supposed to be quick affairs," she murmured to Brielle.

"Ordinarily," agreed Brielle, "but this one is a little longer-lived than usual. Don't fear, Princess. Every rain cloud must eventually pass."

"Will you be missed at supper if you remain?" asked Verity.

Brielle flashed a smile. "Uncle is a sensible man," she said. "He won't want me _traipsing_ in the rain any more than you do."

Verity couldn't help but blush. She turned back to her teacup to alleviate her feelings.

"I have some packing and other errands to perform tomorrow morning," Brielle went on, "but if you come down to the old gatehouse after tea, I might have something for you to add to your pile of anticipation."

Verity frowned in confusion before she remembered their earlier talk of birthday presents. "Sly girl."

"I aim to amuse," was her only reply.

Despite her concerns, the storm dissipated an hour before suppertime, and Brielle took her cheerful leave of the party, and especially the Queen. She had not seen fit to discuss her leaving Lost Lake with the other women, so Verity similarly kept the news to herself. Brielle was prepared to depart alone, out into the cool, damp twilight, before the Queen raised an officious hand and sent a grumbling Cecily to fetch one of her brothers as an escort. All her protestations that she knew the countryside like the back of her hand were to no avail. The Queen was adamant.

Once Lady Brielle's departure had been handled to the Queen's satisfaction, the ladies retired to their rooms to dress for dinner. Verity and Gisette found Jarrod pacing restlessly along the corridor that connected their guest rooms, running his hands through his hair in agitation. Gisette sighed so extravagantly he couldn't help but hear. Jarrod spun to face them and turned his baleful eye on his sister's equanimous face.

"It's only a summer storm, Jarrod," she said.

"We were caught out on the water," he shot back.

"And?" asked Gisette, raising an eyebrow. "You can't have suffered more than some wet and muddy clothes, since you're still here with us." She smiled ironically.

"It was undignified," said Jarrod grumpily.

"Since you're already dressed for dinner," said Verity softly, "perhaps the cook can give you a hot drink to warm up. I heard Mhairi say that the kitchen made mulled wine to go with dinner."

Jarrod didn't tolerate spirits well, not even something so mild as mulled wine, but as it made him drowsy rather than irritable, she considered it a good trade. His mood was noticeably improved by the time they sat down to dinner, and the Kallis brothers were downright cheerful. They'd summered on the lake all their lives. Surely this wasn't the first time they were caught in a summer storm. Malcolm, the eldest, teased Duncan relentlessly about his fastidious aversion to mud. Verity kept glancing over at Jarrod, to see if he would take umbrage at the indirect needling, but he was more interested in his dinner. Food was always a reliable way to distract him.

After dinner, Gisette relented to play Onvu with her, and Mhairi hovered nearby, watching their exchange and offering ill-informed commentary. Darius had engaged his nephews in a game of cards, and the King and Queen had retired together, to no comment. She had no idea where Jarrod or Cecily were, but she had her suspicions.

"I just took your last crow," declared Gisette. "Really, Verity. The game was your idea. I wish you'd be more attentive."

"You're right, of course," she apologized hastily. "I'll endeavor to keep my mind on the game."

Gisette waved a hand magnanimously, to signal her to take her turn.

They played two more games, with Mhairi's observations gradually petering off into nothing, until at last she got caught in a yawn and blushed furiously when Gisette turned a sharp eye on her.

"My apologies, princesses," said Mhairi. "I suppose I'm more tired than I'd thought."

"Quite right," said Gisette crisply, sounding more like her mother than Verity had ever heard her do. "I think we all could use our beauty sleep, don't you, Verity?"

"Now that you mention it," said Verity, "perhaps it's time to turn in."


	4. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brielle and Verity part ways -- for now.

The next morning was wet and cool, but the skies were clear, and nothing short of a full thunderstorm could keep the young people of the house cooped indoors a second day in a row. Especially with no visitors to distract them. Lady Demetria directed the servants to spread out a picnic blanket in the garden, and drew all the girls out into the sunshine and rain-damp grass. It was a pleasant enough morning of reading letters and idle conversation, although Verity couldn't help but notice that Cecily was in such good spirits that her face was fairly glowing.

The young men returned from their ride in time for tea, and came to find them in the garden. Malcolm Kallis offered Verity his hand with a flourish, which she dubiously accepted. Beside her, Gisette rose under her own power, looking every bit like an oil painting of an undine rising out of a still forest pool. Mhairi was grumpily demanding the help of one of her brothers, while Duncan laughed at her, and Rory was nowhere to be seen. Cecily, of course, waited daintily for the Crown Prince to acknowledge her. Verity was passing curious as to whether he would show her more courtesy than he had usually shown herself, but she wouldn't dignify the scene. She took Malcolm's arm and followed him indoors for tea.

It was no matter. She was only burning time until she could walk down to the abbey and say her farewells to Brielle.

Despite best intentions, they hadn't had the time to fully explore all the ruins that remained of the abbey's long-abandoned buildings. After the cloisters and the bell tower, the gatehouse was the next building that Brielle had intended to show her. It actually belonged, not to the abbey itself, but to the larger estate grounds that had been divided into Wendell and Merrotayne, some years back. When Brielle explained this, Verity finally began to understand why she so often referred to Merrotayne estate as _the big house_. Once, it had been attached to Wendell, or rather, the other way around.

Unlike the tumbledown cloisters, which were now best fit for a picnic grounds when they weren't being grazed by goats, the gatehouse still had most of its walls and floor, though the roof was gone. The arch of the gateway itself gave shade from the sun and shelter from the threat of rain, though the stone of the archway was green with mosses and other growth, and the ground underneath was muddy. A rank of slippery, worn stone steps led to the ruined rooms above, sheltered by walls but open to the sky. It was quiet but for the sound of birds and the rush of the wind through the empty window holes, which made it ideal for privacy.

Brielle sat cross-legged on the stone floor, a covered basket beside her. In her walking dress and boots, Verity was able to slide down to take a seat next to her, almost easily. She smiled tentatively.

"I'm glad we're getting this final chance to talk," said Verity.

Brielle smiled her dimpled smile. "Really, Princess Verity," she teased gently, "we are parting for a few months only, and are sure to see each other again, quite soon."

Verity perked up. "Does that mean you'll be wintering in the city this year?"

"Another uncle of my mother's has kindly offered to host me for the whole season," she said, and winked.

"That's wonderful news," exclaimed Verity, clapping her hands together.

Brielle laughed. "I'm glad to have pleased you."

"Of course, it doesn't _quite_ make up for missing my nineteenth birthday," said Verity, "but I shall be so kind as to forgive you, anyway, since you have such a good excuse for your absence."

"I dare not leave my mother waiting," said Brielle, with false solemnity.

Verity couldn't help herself. She burst into laughter.

"That's better," said Brielle with a grin, reaching for the basket by her side. "Are you ready to receive your birthday gift, Princess?"

"Would you rather I open it now, or leave it as a surprise and open it with my other presents?" asked Verity.

"Answering a question with a question," remarked Brielle. "Very politic. You may open it whenever pleases you most, but I suggest you read the card attached in private."

Verity's face heated up, just a little. "Understood."

The package was wrapped in soft white linen, and tied with a satin ribbon the color of the sky at noon. It and the letter that came with it were both small enough to fit into her reticule, where she immediately tucked them away. And along with them, the temptation. She would save them for when she started to feel Brielle's absence.

"With your coming absence, I'll be hard-pressed to find a single sensible conversation, you know," she said to Brielle. "I think I'll miss that, most. Letters are not really the same."

"No one to roll your eyes to discreetly, when Lady Demetria is on about something or other?" asked Brielle, grinning.

"Exactly," agreed Verity.

"You might prevail on Uncle for sympathy, when you are under his roof," she suggested. "His sense of humor is really quite dry."

"And Lord Tristan is always a sensible companion," agreed Verity gamely, "but I will miss your conversation especially."

"I can offer you something else to remember me by," said Brielle, "if you give me leave."

Now Verity's face was truly burning. "You always have leave," she said, with difficulty. "Unless I'm terribly mistaken in your intentions."

But she wasn't, of course. How could she be? From the first, Brielle was generous in the clarity of her intentions. Now she shifted to sit closer to her, leaning in, placing her hand warm on Verity's arm. Her kiss was soft and gentle, but far from hesitant. In every way it was unlike the kisses that Verity had known, except for the way it smothered all thought out of her mind. But for their two points of contact, hand and mouth, all else fell away into nothing.

She broke away, a little breathless, to see that Brielle's eyes were shining in that particular way that she had come to know.

After that, they sat in companionable silence for some time, until Brielle rose with a sigh, dusting her skirts and declaring that she had to finish her travel preparations before supper. She lent Verity a hand, climbing down the slippery steps to the cool, shady underside of the gatehouse, but when they had alighted, she made no move to let go of her hand. Despite her professions of urgency, they lingered under the arch for some moments more, until Verity worked up the nerve to say what was on her mind.

"I meant what I said before, you know," she said.

Brielle raised an eyebrow and cracked a smile. "Which part?"

"The part about giving leave," said Verity. "It is very sweet of you to ask permission every time you want to kiss me. I appreciate it, more than I can say. But truly, I meant what I said." She fell silent, and glanced this way and that, though she knew there could be no one nearby to see or hear. "If no one is about, you can kiss me anytime. If I object, you may be certain I'll make my objections known!"

Brielle laughed. "That's good to know, Princess," she said, her eyes dancing with mirth. "I will keep it in mind, when next we meet. Though I fear privacy may be in short supply in the capital, especially during the social season."

"It can be arranged," said Verity firmly.

Her smile, then, gained a quirk to it that was altogether new. "I see."

"I had better make my way back, if I don't want to be late for supper," said Verity. "Good travels, Lady Brielle."

"Thank you, Princess," said Brielle, inclining her head.

She let her hand slip out of her grip, and turned to walk away.


	5. A Change in Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verity adjusts to the pace of life in Wendell Abbey.

Three days after Brielle's departure, the royal family made their way from General Ayalah's estate to the crumbling old Wendell Abbey. For how near the two houses were, having once been part of the same territory, the journey was somehow unaccountably long. Perhaps that had less to do with the length of the road, and more with the logistical complications of moving five people and their trunks and baggage, not to mention their personalities. The Queen was nurturing a headache, and was in a fouler mood than usual, and Jarrod was having a good old-fashioned sulk. All this and more made the move more complicated than it really needed to be, and by the time they were settled in their rooms, every one of them was tired and surly. 

The King and Queen disappeared behind their shut door, to what purpose she dared not speculate. Gisette, similarly, shut her bedroom door behind her. Most likely to freshen up for dinner, when the Abbey was expecting an unusual number of guests. That left Verity alone with her traveling trunk, with her sulking husband, and -- for a mercy -- with Petra. 

"Petra, fetch us some tea from the kitchens, if you will," said Verity, mustering the last of her energy to imbue the proper authority into her voice. 

Jarrod threw himself into one of the two chairs by the window, then sat slouching and glaring out the window at the gathering dark. Verity stared at him for a moment, racking her brain for something to say that he couldn't simply dismiss with a snort of disdain. When she came up short, she shrugged and sat at the vanity to tend her hair. She wasn't too terribly windblown, but Violetta always had a special censure for her when her hair was less than perfect, so she took particular care with it. 

Petra wasn't long with the tea, and her soft footsteps did something to alleviate the uncomfortable quiet of the room. Verity had never before thought that silence could be so unpleasant. Usually when she retreated to a quiet place on her own, it was to escape the press of too much company, and she took great comfort in the silence of an empty room. Jarrod's silence, however, had an aura of disquiet about it, like a simmering resentment waiting to boil over. 

Once Petra served him his tea, he calmed some. Tea had a way of doing that. 

As she prepared herself for dinner, Verity could only hope that the evening wasn't a foul omen for the rest of their stay at Wendell Abbey. A full month sharing a bedroom and a bed with her sullen husband did not sound relaxing in the least. She almost wished that the King would take him away on some of his mysterious business, but then again, she had no idea what they got up to when they were gone. Except that it was probably to someone's ill health. No, she couldn't hope for that in earnest. 

When the dinner bell rang, Jarrod roused himself. He looked at her for a moment as though he didn't recognize her, before springing to his feet and patting his hair self-consciously. 

"Are you ready for dinner?" asked Verity mildly. 

He stalked across the room, grabbed her by both hands and, without waiting for a response, pulled her to her feet. 

"I suppose that's a yes," said Verity. 

"Let's go," said Jarrod. "I'm tired of sitting here alone." 

"How fortunate that the Duke is hosting so many guests tonight," said Verity. "I think Lord Tristan and Lady Merit will be by shortly." 

Jarrod grunted his acknowledgement, and pulled her out into the corridor. 

It did not escape her notice, either, that he perked up as soon as they had stepped into the dining room, where Cecily Kallis was already seated. Dressed to the nines in a delicate floral print that showed off her pale skin and flaxen hair to best advantage, she rose to her feet with a flourish of swirling skirts when they entered. She bobbed a curtsy, but though Jarrod had clearly noticed her display, he directed his questions at her brother, Malcolm. 

"Mhairi caught cold, and Mama made Duncan stay behind with her," said Malcolm. 

Before the conversation could progress any further, their host entered the room, and the Kallis siblings rose from their seats again. Duke Wendell waved them back to their seats, but soon the rest of the party made their way in, and dinner was served. It was a crowded table, by the abbey's standards. Lady Cendrile sat at her father's right hand, and her odious husband by her side. General Ayalah was absent, but Lady Kallis and three of her children filled the room with chatter. Tristan and Merit Ajah were almost swallowed by the din, by comparison. 

She missed Nerissa for more than one reason. 

* * *

It stormed again during the night, but the morning was clear. Verity woke first, of course, gingerly stepping out into the cold bite of the morning air. It was no news to her that Jarrod was a poor riser, and there was some comfort in the thought that she would have a half-hour or more to herself each morning, to prepare herself for the coming day in peace and solitude. When she had dressed and breakfasted, and Jarrod was still sound asleep, she shrugged and made her way to the library. Duke Wendell's library was not large, but he had given her leave rather gladly, the evening previous, to borrow any book she pleased. 

She was surprised to find Gisette in the library, where she was expecting either the duke himself, or no one at all. 

"Good morning, Verity," said Gisette, almost pleasantly. 

"Good morning," she replied. "I hope you slept well?" 

"Marvelously," answered Gisette, and to her unasked question, added, "The rain has stopped, but it's too muddy outside for most pursuits, and the duke hasn't an instrument for me to practice." 

Though she spoke often of the value of fresh air, nature, and physical activity, Gisette disliked being out-of-sorts and guarded her clothing excessively. Very much like her mother, really. Verity couldn't help but wonder who was the source of this doctrine, since it seemed unlikely to have originated with either of the royal women, and the King didn't care enough to pester his daughter about her hobbies. 

"I was also planning on staying indoors," agreed Verity gamely. 

Gisette laughed sweetly. "Yes, you've always been a great reader." 

"So everyone says," said Verity, noncommittaly. 

Gisette returned to the letter she was writing, and Verity fixed her attention on the bookshelves, elegantly ignoring the gaps in the neatly-bound volumes. She'd already had time to piece together the financial distress that the abbey and its masters had gone through. What puzzled her still was why the King and Queen were so determined to further burden them with the expense of royal hospitality. 

The library was rich particularly in books about natural philosophy, which accounted some for Brielle's encyclopedic knowledge of the local flora and fauna. While it wasn't a particular field of interest for her, Verity spent a few quiet hours diverted by examining the illustrations of butterflies and other creatures, and comparing them to her own amateurish efforts. Thus passed much of the morning, until they were joined by the duke, who greeted Gisette with excessive formality before inviting Verity to a friendly match of Onvu. 

"I would be delighted, Your Grace, though I fear I will make a poor opponent for one with so much more experience than me in the game," said Verity. 

The duke actually laughed. "What a gracious way of calling me old, Princess." 

Verity protested, of course, but the duke hardly seemed offended. And though he had none of the well-known strategy manuals on his shelves that she could see, he was clearly a practiced player, who trounced her time and again. She took it in good humor, having since childhood lost more games than she could count to her own grandmother. It put her at ease in a way that she was hard-pressed to describe or understand. 

"I hope you are well settled now, and that you will be comfortable in my home," said the duke, once they had finished their last match. 

"A generous host makes any home comfortable for his guests," said Verity, paraphrasng one of the oft-repeated platitudes of her nurses in Arland. 

"How kind of you to say, dear sister," said Gisette sweetly, from her seat by the window. 

She was, evidently, not especially comfortable in Wendell Abbey, or else she was ill-tempered because of the rain. But Verity was hesitant to assign to her, even in her own mind, any motivation so like her brother's. 

"How is His Highness occupying himself this morning?" asked the old duke, before Verity could think of a retort of her own. 

"I believe he went riding to town with Malcolm and Tristan," said Gisette. "Something about replacing his riding gloves, or some such." 

Verity filed this information away for future use. She had gifted Jarrod a brand new pair of very good riding gloves for his birthday, only a few weeks ago. Either he did not like the gift, or he had lost them already, neither of which was very flattering. Or he was lying about his reasons for going to town, which was worrisome in itself. For the moment, though, this was intelligence she couldn't act on, so she put it out of her mind. Instead she turned the conversation to the subject of the illustrations she had so enjoyed looking at, which the duke was only happy to discuss, and Gisette sank back into her own affairs. 

Her relocation to Wendell Abbey had not gone too shabbily, she thought, after the initial disappointment of learning that Brielle would be absent. The next week or so was bright and sunny, which improved everyone's tempers, especially as it allowed Jarrod and Verity to continue the separation they were accustomed to. Verity rose early, at least by aristocratic standards, and was often out and about before Jarrod stirred. They met at dinner, of course, but their other evening pursuits were typically separate. Verity still sat with the Queen and Gisette most evenings, and Jarrod played cards with his friends, or with Darius. She saw no reason why they shouldn't see out the month in this manner. 

It seemed, after all, that she'd had little to worry about. 


End file.
